


Passenger

by DoctorBane



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Patricide, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 00:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18649207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBane/pseuds/DoctorBane
Summary: The prison rang today. Apparently my father has been a model prisoner, and he's being released on parole.





	Passenger

**Author's Note:**

> Written at speed to clear my mind.

The prison rang today. Apparently my father has been a model prisoner, and he's being released on parole.

Somehow, I'm looking after him. Just until he can get back on his feet. Should only be a couple of weeks.

I'm shaking. Why is this happening? Why can't he just stay gone? Isn't it enough that he robbed me of any semblance of a childhood, now he has to rob me of my adulthood? I haven't seen him in fifteen years, not since I was twelve. Not since...

No. I don't want to go there. I think about calling Jen, but she doesn't need to hear this. She's practicing for the bar exam, and it wouldn't be right heaping this on her. Who else? Aunt Elaine doesn't like to talk about him, Betty doesn't even know he exists...

Memories of a fist hitting me. Being held off the ground as he roars in my face, the stink of beer choking me as he does so. My mother trying to stop him, only to get kicked in the gut. Hiding in the closet as he screams, throwing things, trying to find me. My mother trying to fight him off, only to get a black eye. Him ripping the closet door off it's hinges, an inhuman strength born of rage, of hatred, of drunkeness.

Memories of my mother hiding her tears from me. Trying to smile through the pain as she tended to my injuries.

  
***

  
Today's the day. I have to collect my father, and take him into my house. I have to let him in my car, in my house, in my... life.

The drive home is quiet. My father sits in the passenger seat, the seat as far back as it will go to accomodate his frame. He's still got a good eight or nine inches on me, height-wise. He's lean as ever. He has a scraggly gray beard, and a bald patch on his head. We've hardly said ten words to each other. It's hard to think of what to say to him. As for him, I don't know what he's thinking. Maybe he wants to apologise, and just doesn't know how?

***

  
I park on the driveway, and put the car into neutral. "Well, here we are", I say to him. He climbs out of the car, drawing himself up to his full height. He looks at the house, and says "Well you're doing all right for yourself aren't you?" Without waiting for an answer, he strides over to the front door. I follow sheepishly, unlocking the door. My father pushes the door open and walks in without waiting for an invitation.

  
***

We're eating dinner, a pizza. I don't feel up to cooking tonight. He's already made himself at home, having taken my bedroom and relegated me to the couch. He's looking at me disdainfully as we eat. Finally, after finishing his fourth slice, he speaks.

"So are you going to get me a beer or do I have to?"

I almost choke on my pizza. This man is forcing himself into my home, after everything he's done. He's cast me out of my own bed, eating food I bought, and he's demanding more? Despite the tempest going on in my head, when I speak I feign civility.

"I'm sorry, I make it a habit not to keep alcohol in my home."

"Oh yeah? And why would that be, pray tell? Are you too good for it? You afraid of what'll come out if you drink a little?" He sneers as he says this. He knows how to get me. He always did call me a freak, too smart for my own good.

"I've had bad experiences with it. It makes me ill." Keep calm Bruce, don't piss him off, you know what he's like.

"Fucking pussy." The old man gets up. I flinch, ready for the beating. He notices, and grins. "Don't worry, Brucie. I'm not gonna hurt you this time. I'm just gonna get a six pack, since someone didn't think to have one ready for me". He grabs his coat, and leaves.

  
***

Fifteen years. Fifteen years, and he still has it. He still knows how to get me. I collapse on the floor, sobbing. How could I let this monster back into my life? After everything he's done. Another memory surfaces. Not this memory. Why can't I forget this memory?

Myself and my mother are packing suitcases into our car when my father walks outside. He notices what we're doing, and descends on my mother, howling. I try to tell him that I'll behave, I'll do whatever he wants, I'll even die if he just stops hitting my mother. There's no getting through to him now. He throws my mother to the ground, and she smashes her head on the hood of the car. It bounces off and hits the ground, and he kicks her once more for good measure.

A neighbour screams from a hundred miles away. The police arrive, and try to talk to me. I don't speak. I'm not really there, I'm in the back of my mind, there's another person in charge. The other me doesn't speak, he only screams. He screams in rage and despair at the body in front of him.

 

***

I'm at her grave. I don't remember the last time I visited her grave. I just know I have to visit her tonight. I'll stay here all night if I have to, I just don't want to have to see him.

Unfortunately, he finds me anyway.

"What exactly are you doing here?" he demands. When I don't respond, he kicks me. "Answer me, dammit! I am your father, and I demand you answer me!"

"I can't be with you right now" I say, trying not to panic.

"Look at you, cowering in the dirt like a worm. You think you had it bad, do ya? Huh? My father abused me! I never even wanted children! Yet your mother got pregnant anyway, and then when you were born all her time was spent with you." He starts to yell faster and louder, the way he always did when he was drunk. I know the beating will come next. It doesn't matter that I'm not a child anymore.

He's still ranting on. "I loved your mother more than you could imagine," he screams. "I loved her, and then you came along and poisoned me! You turned her against me! You made me kill her, you damned freak!"

Suddenly, the fear leaves me. The fear leaves, to be replaced by a feeling of rage I haven't felt in fifteen years. He punches me, only it isn't me he punches. I'm in the back of my mind again, and the other me is in charge. The other me that doesn't speak, but screams. From the backseat, I see my father's expression change to one of fear. The other me attacks, and screams, and punches.

"BAD MAN! BAD MAN HURT BANNER! BAD MAN HURT BANNER'S MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMEEEEEE!"

  
***

In the future, after the accident I lose control a lot more. I realise then that the Hulk was always a part of me. The accident just gave him form.


End file.
